The night's again on youthful minds,
As sunlight is upon the day,
Joining around with different kinds,
Making the world go round and play.
They revel much at sprightly nights,
With golden cups in silver hands,
Dancing as dazzling diamonds bright,
With tongues who no one understands.
Free is the joy who is held there,
As swirling leaves do fall on grounds,
Without a woe, without a care,
Yet they do make a lot of sounds.
  After night, when at last awake,
  They're welcomed by the one: headache.